


Five Times Sherlock Didn't Tell John He Loved Him and One Time He Did

by Foreverwholockedme



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Johnlock Angst, Multi, Pining Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2033496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foreverwholockedme/pseuds/Foreverwholockedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock could never tell John how he felt until he finally picked the time to tell him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Sherlock Didn't Tell John He Loved Him and One Time He Did

_1.) It shouldn't be so hard to say. It should be the easiest thing I would have ever done. So why can't I do it? Because it isn't. It's the hardest thing I've ever tried to do. I could make at least four different, probably more, chemical compounds and mixtures in under an hour, I can solve a case in less than a day. I can even master a language over the course of a few hours or days, depends on how invested I am._

 

_So why can't I tell him how I feel?_

_Everybody makes it seem like there is no issue. Like it's elementary. Walk up to the desired person, say some cheesy romance line, and then admit your love for them and it's all sunshine and rainbows from there. Clearly people weren't thinking of me when they decided that this was the norm of declaring your love for another person. Especially a man like John Watson. He's seen the true horrors of war, he's seen ailments and diseases that others wouldn't dare to even examine or touch for fear that their lives were to be endangered. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit. But how does one describe such an incredible man, such as John Watson? Doctor John Watson, Captain John Watson, the man with many names. He's kind, caring, well-groomed, minus the periodical beard, which I don't mind actually. He's smart, clever even, and he's...pleasant to look at. Very pleasant, actually. I can find myself staring at him for hours, with his eyes and his well-sculpted nose, his gene pool is absolutely amazing! I have to remember to thank somebody in his family, his sister, since that's the only family he seems to have._

_Even if I were to tell John my emotions towards him, which would ruin my reputation as a sociopath, he would never reciprocate them anyway. He claims repeatedly that he's not gay, and he always brings up the fact that he has slept and dated women many times, as if I ever asked him, I'm not competing. Women aren't my area, as I've told him on the first day we met, and he seemed to have no problem with it. And who would want to be intimate with a person like me? I'm not romantic, unless your idea of a romantic night out is chasing some psychotic criminal through alleyways, or examining a corpse at half past midnight, which in that case, I would be what others refer to as a 'Casanova'.  
_

_I'm not funny, people often tell me that my jokes are painful to hear and should try avoid them at all times. Many people have also thought it was kind enough to tell me that I am boring and that even a man that goes by the name of Buzz Killington wouldn't even want to hang out with me. I think telling me that I am not entertaining is a clear enough message. There's no need to add all of the extra stuff. I'm not a nice person. I call people out on their flaws, I manipulate others to get what I want, and I steal if I have to. I'm not even going to begin on my past drug use. Nobody likes me enough to be in the same room with me, save for John, so that must mean I'm just not a good person. A person like John Watson is out of my league._

_But maybe he will share my feelings and say that he loves me too. For some reason that makes me happy, just thinking about him saying that he's always felt the same way about me. I don't know why I'm even getting my hopes up, who would ever love Sherlock Holmes? Still, it can't hurt to try, right?  He's sitting right there, watching telly, with the most bored expression on his face. I will never understand him, if you clearly aren't intrigued with the program that is on at the moment, change the channel! We are not so poor that we have to watch one channel every day. Why doesn't he watch that infernal show...Doctor Who....I think it's called. It makes it harder for me to express my affection for you if you're frowning._

"John." 

_His eyes flicker over to me. God this is harder than I already imagined it._

"What is it, Sherlock?" 

 

_John, I am hopelessly in love with you and I would like nothing more than to have your lips against mine and the smell of your cologne suffocating my nostrils as we wreck the flat with our passionate love._

"I...uh...." 

 

_My phone rings and it's Lestrade. He says that there's been a murder and he needs my help. What's new? The life of a Consulting Detective isn't a dull one. I almost forgot that he was awaiting my response._

"Lestrade just sent me a text. We're needed." 

 

_He groans. Why is he unhappy? I thought he enjoyed cases with me...ah....it is late. Well, late for him at least._

"Why are you complaining? It is not even twelve-thirty yet. We won't be long, I'll just go and examine the body and then we'll return here and you can get your oh so special eight hours." 

 

"Well, I am sorry for getting tired and wanting to sleep like a normal human being." 

 

"Apology accepted, now are you coming or not?" 

 

_John rolls his eyes, but I see the smirk on his face as he gets up and fetches his coat. I put on my scarf and coat in shame because I could not get the words out. I choked. But it won't happen next time, it can't._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_2.) Well this is fun. There's nothing I wanted to do more than to spend my entire night at a club full of flashing lights, drunk dancers, and music that sounds like a dying cat. At least John is having some type of fun. He was spending the whole day complaining that he was tired from work and wanted to nap for a while, but he clearly isn't tired. He's been ordering drinks and socializing since we've been here. I've been sitting at this table for what seems like forever just watching everybody. I'm really on the lookout for the suspect, apparently they frequent clubs on Thursday nights, so obviously they have no job and will continue to be unemployed in the foreseeable future. At least John has a reason to let loose. He works all day and then returns home to find me doing some insane thing or fluttering about for a case and simply joins me._

_There he is, walking around with a drink in his hand and a smile on his face as he approaches that....woman, I never did like it when he had a girlfriend, that took away from the time we spent together and it also limited what he could do. Sarah, for example, she managed to get herself kidnapped and almost killed, John too. If he listened to me and took me out instead of her, that wouldn't have happened. I sound selfish, I know, but I've never cared about anybody the way I do John. And nobody's ever cared about me either. John's the only person who ever listened to what I have to say, who actually asks me my opinion on the topic. He compliments me on my genius, I like that. It makes me feel special. Of course he's not coming over to talk to me. Why would he? He wants to dance and have fun meanwhile I just sit and watch from the sidelines. I'm a wallflower, I've always been that way. I told him to go about his business, to leave me alone, force of habit I guess._

  
_This is the first time I've ever seen John talk to a woman without using his charm on them. I suppose that he does have a type and she is pretty enough. She has several cats, all tabby. She hasn't caught the attention of a man in a while because her roots are starting to show her natural hair color which is black, and so the blonde is slowly fading away. Her lips are chapped, she doesn't even bother to look presentable anymore. She wears a ring, not a wedding ring, but an engagement ring, so her fiancee must have left her or cheated. She suffers from low self-esteem, the only makeup she puts on is_ _eye-shadow, which is not her color at all. Her dress is worn and old, her shoes are new, and the only reason she comes here is for the drinks and the atmosphere, won't step in a pub where there are other sad and lonely sods every night._

_There's no way John would want to hook up with her. He doesn't have my deductive abilities, but he's not an idiot. Tonight can be my night to tell him. He's happy, I'm....content....and conditions are perfect._

_With a long sip of my drink I stand up, I'm ignoring the suspect right now, he can wait. I'm mentally forcing and preparing myself for every possible outcome that this could have. He's so close, not even two hundred feet away from me. My mouth is curling into a smile, I can't believe I'm actually doing this! Before I could open my mouth to say anything, I see John grab her hand and then lead her to the dance floor. They dance like they've been dating for years. Once again, I'm ashamed. I'm hurt. I should have expected that, I'm Sherlock bloody Holmes and I know everything, except on telling John I love him. Why do I even try? John will never go for somebody like me. Not when he can have somebody better._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~_

  
_3.)_ "Sherlock...." 

_Why has it come to this? I'm standing on the hospital's rooftop, ready to jump to my death while John's shouting and begging me to stop and to come down. He doesn't know that this is the only way I can save him, I can't let him die, I'll surely follow him if he does. Moriarty knew, he said he was going to burn the heart out of me. I only have one and his name is John Watson. I extended my hand and imagined that I felt the soft leather of his coat. I couldn't stand to look at him, but I had to. I won't ever see him again. My eyes are blurry from the tears that I refuse to let fall. They're bitter and they'll burn as they run down my cheeks._

_I can tell him now. I can just say that I love him, and then jump, nothing is stopping me._

_But his face, I can't stand it. His mouth is open, all words coming out in short breaths. He no doubt thinks it's his fault that I'm up here, he called me a machine earlier. He was wrong, machines aren't capable of loving somebody as much as I love you._

"It's just a trick, it's all a magic trick." 

 

_Hopefully he understood my phrasing. I'm telling him that it's all a fake, I'll still be alive, but I won't live without you. He's too upset to listen, he heard but he didn't listen. He just wants me down from there, he wants everything to be okay. It won't ever be okay, you'll get shot if I leave. I'll still be hated by the world for being a fake. Hate isn't new to me, I've experienced it all my life. I can't let them hate you, John. You're not going to go down with me. I'll jump and then you'll be safe. You'll be mad for a little while, but you'll get over it. You won't miss me as much I will miss you. You're an army man, a solider, you're trained for war and death. My death shouldn't even matter. I can't stay on this phone any longer, hearing your voice makes it that much harder for me to hang up and go through with this. I should never be this emotional. He brought this out of me._

"This is my note, this is what people do right? Leave a note?"

 

"Leave a note when?" 

 

_I can't keep this going anymore. I'm going to tell him that I love him and that I'll never see him again._

"Goodbye, John." 

 

_But I can't. I just can't do it._

"SHERLOCK!"

 

_That's all I hear now. Is the sound of his anguished cry, and the feeling of remorse filling my being as I fall. I couldn't say three simple words, I couldn't tell him how I feel. This is the last time I'll ever see his face, hear his voice, talk to him. I ruined it._

_~~~~~~~~~~~_

_4.) I can't watch this. I can't do this. I'm forcing myself to stand here, and like everybody else, witness this._

_John Watson is getting married._

_He looks so happy, his smile never faded throughout this whole day. He spent months planning this with her, with me. The day I return from my painful two years away, is to see John trying to propose to his girlfriend. Mary Morstan, her name is. She's nice enough, good enough for him. She smiles, she socializes with others, people like her. She's already a better candidate for him than I could ever be. When I came back, he was angry at me. He was hurt because I faked my death, that I never told him I was still alive. I didn't think he would care as much as he did. Who would miss me if I died?_

_He came to me, a few months after the incident with the train bomb, where he forgave me. He was talking, but I wasn't listening. I was too busy observing his face. He was talking about the wedding, I know that much. It was all he talked about. I was busying myself with my eyeball until it fell in the tea that I was drinking. I was forced to listen to him now, to hear how happy he was to get married, how much Mary helped him while I was gone and how she saved him. He told me that once. Then he asked me about the best man for the wedding, since I was the planner. I told him that Mike would be a sufficient best man, then Lestrade, and then Billy Kincaid. He is the best man I ever knew. But John said that none of them were his best friends._

_He said that I was his best friend._

_Never has anybody called me such a title. I get freak, weirdo, psychopath, but not best friend, let alone friend. Nobody has ever even wanted to sit in the same area as me. I was alone, and forced to live in solitude, which I sort of encouraged with the drugs. I can't believe that somebody as extraordinary as him would even think of me like that. I don't even think of myself like that. He asked me to be his best man for his wedding. I was frozen, I couldn't handle all of that at once. First he says that I'm his best friend, and then he asks me to be his best man all in the same sentence. I want to say no so bad, I want to tell him that I can't watch him get married. But I agree. I make him happy._

_The only times he would come to visit anymore is because of the wedding. He brought her sometimes. She would laugh and smile and talk to me, but she was only really talking to John. That was going to be her husband soon. When John left us alone together, she would only say but a few words to me that wasn't about the marriage. I didn't want to be rude because then she wouldn't like me, and then she would try to keep John away more than she already does. He doesn't go on cases anymore, so I go alone. I forgot how much fun it was to giggle at a crime scene, or to chase down a criminal through London. What I wouldn't give to hear John call me 'amazing' or 'fantastic' one more time._

_After some researching, I found out that it's common for the groom-to-be and his friends go out on a stag night. I would never do something like that, but this was for John, and this would probably be the last time I would ever get to be alone with him. So I told him about it, and he was eager. We went to every pub that was on the same street as the corpses we examined. The music was loud and obnoxious, the lights were flashing and bouncing around, the people were drunker than a barfly and danced awfully. John seemed to be having a good time, we had drinks, and we talked and laughed. But then I got drunk, John did too. I almost got into a fight with a man who so rudely stated he knew more about ash than me. ME! Thankfully, John pulled me away from the angry man. He's so strong..._

_We make it back to Baker Street. Home. Where we both belong, and pass out on the stairs. I was rambling about...something...I don't know that's not important anyway. We somehow end up playing The Rizla Game, John got Madonna, I don't know who that is. We had fun playing that, John laughed a lot more, as did I, and we were able to let loose for a change. John even said that my joke was funny. In the midst of all the laughter and joking, John slid out of my chair and touched my knee. His firm hand grasped it as he tried to regain his balance. I was in awe. He removed it for a second and I was almost ready to beg for him to touch it again. Then he shrugged and said_

"I don't mind." 

 

_Why are you doing this to me, John? Do you not understand how badly I want you? Can you not see it written all over my face? You're getting married, but not to me. I love you John, and I'll miss you. Baker Street isn't going to be the same without you. I want to tell you everything while we're still drunk and happy and won't remember any of it tomorrow. I want you to stay with me. But like the idiot that I am, all I do is sit back with my intoxicated smile and say_

"Anytime." 

 

_You think we're drinking because we're celebrating your marriage. I'm drinking to tell you how I feel and to forget, just for a little while, that you aren't going to be walking down the aisle with your wife and that you're going to move on and be happy with her, and leave me behind. That it'll only be Sherlock Holmes and the skull at 221B._

_But I have to remember. I watched it. I gave my best man speech and made everybody cry. I solved the case and saved John's ex-commander, the one that came before me. I played my violin for the happy couple, I wrote them a waltz. Just because John asked me to. I could try and tell him, through the song, but all they do is dance to the tune of my heart break. I tell them that Mary's pregnant, and that they're not going to need me anymore, they're going to have a family. They laugh, and so do I. I laugh the pain and tears away. John tells Mary that I taught him how to dance to the waltz that's playing._

"Mrs. Hudson came in one time. Don't know how  _those_ rumors got started!" 

 

_He joked but it's not funny to me. I got to feel his touches and his body pressed against mine. I had him to myself for only a short while, but I loved every minute of it. I would mess up on purpose just so we would have to start again. I would take so long to finish the practices that he would have to sleep over so we could continue in the morning. I had the curtains closed because it was our moment, I didn't want anybody else intruding. He takes his wife to the middle of the dance-floor so they could dance and bask in each other's company. I looked around to see if anybody was free so that I could join them, but of course, everybody had a partner, except for me. I love to dance, but I never have anybody to dance with. I dance alone. I can't tolerate the festivities and the happiness in the air, so I leave my song for them on the sheet-holder, and then I leave and nobody notices._

_Now I can never tell him, he's got a wife and a baby now. There's no room for Sherlock._

_~~~~~~~~~~~_

_5.) Here I am again. I'm to be sent away to unknown territory as a punishment for killing Magnussen. I had to do it. He was going to hurt John and Mary. I won't be able to stand it if John gets hurt, I had to watch his face get flicked, and I did nothing. He's still cross with Mary for shooting me, but I told him that she did it to protect him. I needed John to be okay. He still loves her, I know that. He forgave her at my parent's house during the Christmas dinner, I think he did. I can't say that I'm on very good terms with her right now after she shot me and temporarily killed me, but I just need somebody to check on him while I'm away. I did everything for him. His happiness means more to me than I can say._

_Mycroft escorted us to the Tarmac he hired to take me to my untimely death. It was either this or prison. I won't be able to last in prison, not with my mind. At least I'll die taking down a crime syndicate. I'll die doing what I do best, but I'll never get to see John again. This time it's permanent. He's staring at me, he's at arms' length of Mary, he's not even acknowledging her presence. He did say that he was still angry about the situation. We're making eye contact, but it takes for John to walk over to me for any of us to say anything. I tell Mycroft to give us some privacy, which he reluctantly agrees to and joins Mary. We're staring at each other, trying to think of something to say. I have to tell him now. Do it Sherlock. Do it. There are no excuses this time. I have to tell him that I love him, now or never._

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes." 

 

"Sorry?" 

 

"That's the whole of it - if you're looking for baby names." 

 

_He laughs and tells me its a girl. I smile and I pretend to be okay. But I'm not, and neither is John. There's so much that needs to be said, but there's no time. We'll have to part ways soon, and John will have to know. It'll ruin me, but I can't keep it in any longer._

"John, there’s something ... I should say; I-I’ve meant to say always and then never have. Since it’s unlikely we’ll ever meet again, I might as well say it now."

 

_This is it. I'm finally going to tell him..._

"Sherlock is a girl's name." 

 

"It's not." 

 

"It was worth a try." 

 

_I'm crumbling on the inside. I feel everything caving in. My heart is wilting away in my chest and I have to fight to keep my legs from giving out. I didn't tell him. I should have told him and I said nothing and now I'm going to die without ever telling him. I hate myself and John should have never met me. All I do is hurt people, I'm hurting myself right now. I say some stupid joke which nobody finds funny instead of what I really wanted to say. I am mentally kicking myself and yelling at myself to tell him. Tell him correctly. But instead I remove my glove and extend my hand and look him in the eyes I'll never see again._

"To the very best of times, John." 

 

_Please shake my hand, John. Grant me the precious moment of your skin against mine. I need it for where I'm going. He does it. Thank you, John, no I'm off to my death. I walk up the stairs and look back to see him staring at me. Stop looking at me, don't make me feel worse than I already do. I'm dying to protect you as I once done before. Please John, move on this time. I'm not worth your grief and sorrow. I'm not worth your love._

_~~~~~~~~_

  
_1.)_ "John, JOHN! Stay with me!" 

 

_He's been hurt, no, not hurt, he's been shot. John's been shot._

_We were chasing after one of Moriarty's goons, he led us to this abandoned building. Like an idiot I told John to come inside because he was getting away. It turned out to be a trap, of course it was, how could I be so stupid? This is Moriarty we're talking about! The building was dark, and the only flashlight in our possession was the one that John had in his pocket, just in case. Good old John. He was extremely clever, it was I who was the fool and fell into the trap. We heard laughter and noise and then lights came on. So the building wasn't that abandoned after all._

_Then the madman himself stepped out of the shadows. He was always cliche._

"My, my, Sherlock. I didn't think it would be this easy to trap you." 

 

"What do you want?" 

 

"Oh, I don't want anything, I think you'll be wanting something from us." 

 

_I hear John's muffled grunt and turn around to see him being tied and gagged by Jim's minions._

"John!" 

 

"Not so fast, Sherlock." 

 

_He had a gun aiming right at John's chest. I didn't think he was the gun carrying type. But I couldn't let John get hurt, not him._

 

"What do you want?" 

 

"I think you know what I want. Give it to me now, and John won't have to get hurt." 

 

_I sighed. He wanted Sebastian Moran's journal. Sebastian was his right hand man and they were very...close. The government caught Moran a few weeks back and had him thrown in jail. He was beaten, tortured for information on Moriarty's network, he didn't give up any secrets, so naturally, they killed him. He was a wanted criminal, he was on the watch-list for M16 and they had him in captivity. Jim only found out through his contacts, and he wasn't happy. Mycroft gave me the journal because he knew that Moriarty would be heading for him first. I took it so he could stop pestering me. John came back. He and Mary divorced and she had the baby. He wasn't the father so she kept custody of her. When he showed up, he didn't look like he was in agony, he looked more relieved than anything. I was so happy that he was back._

_I pulled the journal out of my coat pocket and slowly handed it over to him. He caressed the worn leather of the cover and then sniffed it. Sicko. He whispered._

"So they finally put down my tiger, huh?" 

"Yes, I'm very sorry for your loss, now let John go." 

 

_His eyes darkened and he gave a curt nod. He told his goons to let John go, which they did. But then I heard a gunshot, and John was sinking to the floor, covered in his own blood._

"JOHN!" 

 

_Moriarty shot him. He shot him close to his heart. Not enough to kill him instantly, but....it would do its job. I ran over to him and I cradled his body in my arms. He was convulsing, his coat was stained crimson with his blood, he was coughing up blood and his eyes were dulling, they weren't warm and inviting anymore, they were dying. I placed his hand on top of his chest and my hand on top of his._

"That wasn't very nice, Sherlock. You didn't seem to understand my pain over losing Sebastian, so you can experience it with John." 

 

_Just like that, they all left. I don't know where they went, but they were gone. I don't care. John is my priority now, he always was._

"S-Sherlock..." 

 

"Shh, hush, John, don't talk." 

 

_Of course he wouldn't listen. Stubborn fool. I'm trying to save your life._

"John we're going to get you help. Just hang on, John." 

 

_I'm crying. I doubt he can understand what I'm saying. He just shakes his head and opens his mouth again. He's so cold....He won't stop shaking._

"Not....going...to make it.....you know that...." 

 

_His voice sounds so hoarse. It probably hurts him to speak._

"No, John don't talk like that, you'll be fine...Lestrade will come and get you help and then we'll be back at Baker Street...." 

 

"....My....wound....it's.....bleeding....too....much..." 

 

_Shut up John. Stop saying you're going to die, you're not going to. Not my John. Stop acting like a doctor, just stop talking and let me save you._

"Stop...c-c-crying....I-I'll...start...." 

 

"I'm sorry John, I'm so sorry! I'm an idiot and now we'll never be happy!" 

 

_His mouth curled into a quivering smile._

"Don't...d-don't say that..." 

 

_I don't care anymore, I have to tell him now. I won't ever get this chance, he's going to quickly, I have to let him know, I won't live with myself if I don't._

 

"I love you, John! I have always loved you, ever since I first met you and we went on our first case! I've always wanted to tell you, but I could never muster up the courage! I always thought that you would turn me down and that our friendship would be ruined and I didn't want that, and now you're dying because of me!" 

 

_John only had moments left. He was practically grey, his hand was soaked with his blood and his breathing was so slow...it was getting slower....John..._

 

_He rested his hand on my cheek, I didn't mind the blood, not at all. My arms tightened around his limp body, my hand rested on the one laying on my cheek, my tears are coming even faster now. Sentiment is devastating._

"Sh-Sh-Sherl...I-I-I....love....y-y-...you...." 

 

_His hand was starting to slide down, his eyes were closed and his breathing ceased altogether. His free hand went limp on the floor....but his mouth  was curled into the smallest smile. My hand clenched his and for a moment I couldn't process anything. He wasn't dead, he just passed out from blood loss. He'll wake up, this is all a dream....John isn't dead...not my John...._

"J-John?" 

 

_He didn't respond. I felt my body start to tremble and tears come rushing out, they burned because they were so intense. I gently shook him just in case he was unconscious._

"John...wake up...John don't leave me.....please..."

 

_My sobs came out in violent, short, gushes. He was dead, he really was. John Watson died in my arms. I told him I loved him, and he said he loved me too. He was always in love with me. I was too much of a moron to see that. Now he's gone, and we don't have the future. We could have been so happy together. No I will never know the meaning of happiness again. I won't ever love again. All my love and happiness went with John. I know that I'll never be the same again._

_Not without my John..._

 


End file.
